Head Over Heels Read online

Page 6

  Author: Jill Shalvis

  Tara’s father had taken Tara with him when he and Phoebe’s relationship had deteriorated. Maddie’s father had done the same when she’d come along a few years later. Chloe couldn’t say what her own father had done or felt, as she’d never known him. Phoebe hadn’t talked about him and had always dodged Chloe’s questions by claiming Chloe was a gift from a life well lived.

  Ahead of Chloe, the Pacific Ocean was a deep, choppy sea of black, meeting the metallic sky. The entire vista was framed by rocky bluffs, misty and breathtaking. She stood there and wondered at her fondness for this place, which seemed to anchor her like no other. She’d been fond of places before, lots of them, but she’d never had a connection like the one she’d had with Lucky Harbor.

  When she heard footsteps come up behind her, she instinctively grabbed her inhaler like it was Mace and whirled around.

  Sawyer stood there all rugged and damp from exertion and looking damn gorgeous. He took in her ready stance and then the inhaler, held out like a gun. “Going to shoot me with that?”

  Chloe shoved the inhaler back into her waistband. “What are you doing?” It was a stupid question, born of nerves. He was dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, breathing heavy but not overly labored. Clearly he’d been running, which caused a yearning to well up within her to do the same. But running would be like stepping out in front of a speeding car—deadly.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Of course. ” It was easier to think of Sawyer as a badge. A sanctimonious authority figure, and an irritating one at that. But whether she liked it or not, there was more to the man, much more. Yeah, he was tough, stoic, and impenetrable, but once in a while he’d reveal more, like the way his eyes filled with concern when he’d seen her injuries after rescuing the dogs, not to mention how he’d let her stretch the letter of the law that night. “I’m always okay,” she said. “Tell me what happened last night at Eagle’s Bluff. ”

  He gave her one of his patented “yeah right” looks.

  Okay, so he was still more irritating than intriguing. Good to know. “Come on, Sheriff. It’ll be on Facebook if anything went down, so you might as well spill. ”

  The threat was legit. Lucille ran the local art gallery and Lucky Harbor’s Facebook page with equal enthusiasm. In fact, her updates were practically required reading for Lucky Harbor residents. She reported on the happenings in town, each detail joyfully chronicled, the juicier the better.

  “We found no dogs on the premises,” he said.

  He shifted to go, but she asked the question that was tweaking her curiosity. “So why did you stop?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why didn’t you just keep running when you saw me out here?”

  Not a blink. Not even a shrug.

  “Sheriff Sawyer Thompson,” she murmured. “Communication master. ”

  The very corner of his mouth turned up slightly. It knocked her off balance a little.

  A lot.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “You couldn’t resist me. ” She couldn’t say why she was poking the bear, but maybe it was her version of running…with scissors. “You saw me, and you couldn’t resist me, and so you stopped to…”

  “To…?”

  “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” she asked. “I mean, we don’t like each other. We don’t have anything in common. Whatever would we do with each other?”

  His eyes heated at that, and in reaction, her nipples contracted to two tight beads. Hmmm. Apparently they could do plenty. But before she could process that, he took a step back as if to go.

  “I scare you,” Chloe said.

  “Hell, yeah,” he admitted, shocking a laugh from her. He wasn’t afraid. Nothing scared him. But she’d learned not to tangle with the good sheriff unless she was on her A-game, and that wasn’t the case at the moment. Being in Sawyer’s presence took all of her concentration so that she didn’t accidentally give herself away. Because the truth was, in spite of the overwhelming odds of the two of them being a major train wreck if they ever got together, she wanted him.

  It was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever wanted.

  After all, he was rigid where she was flexible. He was black and white, and she was all the rainbow in between, and they didn’t go together.

  Not that her body cared about logic. He was the most virile, potent, testosterone-filled guy she’d ever met. Sex with him would be fireworks, thunderstorms.

  Magic.

  But even she knew that she wasn’t ready for prime time with Sawyer Thompson. “I have to go. ”

  “Now who’s scared?”

  “No, I have to get back to the inn. ” It was nearly seven, and she needed to beat her sisters there. They hadn’t had any guests last night, but Tara was adamant that someone always be available, even at the ass crack of dawn.

  Someone being Chloe, naturally.

  “Know what I think?” Sawyer asked.

  “I have no idea. I never do. ”

  He was leaning against the back of the bench, all six feet three inches of brawn at rest. “I make you nervous. ”

  “You don’t make me nervous. ” Okay, he so made her nervous. She turned to the water and tried to take a deep, relaxing breath. With the ocean in front of her—a much more relaxing view than the one of the gorgeous, smug bastard behind her—it should have been no problem. But it took a few tries, and she had to close her eyes. When that didn’t work, she added a stretch, rolling her shoulders, then lifting her arms high.

  A low sound of male appreciation came from behind her in mid-stretch, and she turned to face him.

  Sawyer’s eyes lifted from the vicinity of her ass. “What are you playing at now?” he asked softly.

  And wasn’t that just the thing. “I don’t think I’m playing,” she said back, just as softly.

  He studied her carefully, clearly searching for half truths.

  But she never dealt in half truths. Or lies for that matter. Too much to remember. Nope, she liked her life dealt straight up. Possibly the one thing they had in common.

  Sawyer stepped toward her, something in his stance making her feel like Little Red Riding Hood facing down the Big Bad Wolf. With the pier rail at her back, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “What?” she whispered.

  “Is there something going on with you and Lance that I should know about?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Just trying to figure out if last night’s fake caterwauling was a warm-up. ”

  “For the real thing? No. ” She paused. “Caterwauling?” He was giving her a complex. “It happens, you know. Screaming during sex. ” Although not to her, dammit.

  “Does it?” he wondered. “Moaning, I get. ” He stepped even closer. Since she had nowhere to retreat to, his body touched hers. “Panting? Definitely. ” His voice dropped an octave. “Some dirty talk? Oh hell, yeah. But not that horrendous sound you were making, no. ”

  He was warm, so deliciously warm. “It happens,” Chloe repeated, having to lock her knees so they didn’t wobble. She put a hand on his chest because he’d moved into her personal space and suddenly there wasn’t nearly enough air.

  “When?” he asked, his hand circling her wrist, and as he’d done once before, he let his thumb brush over the tiny tattoo there. “When does it happen?”

  “Well…in books. ”

  His eyes softened slightly at this and so did his mouth. “What kind of books are you reading, Chloe?”

  “Er…” Okay, so maybe she’d been reading a lot of romances lately, so what? And maybe some erotica, too. There was nothing wrong with that, or daydreaming about being those women in the stories, the women who had enough breath in their lungs to scream in passion. “Not the point,” she said, no longer certain what the point was.

  And why the hell was he standing here teasing her instead of running? And…“Why did you ask ab